


the speed so fast i felt like i was drunk

by xxpaynoxx



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Blood, Car Accidents, M/M, Major Character Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-07-23 20:45:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7479321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxpaynoxx/pseuds/xxpaynoxx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>leo loves his car.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the speed so fast i felt like i was drunk

**Author's Note:**

> i am so sorry. blame the song fast car.

leo _loves_ his car.

it’s one of those new lamborghinis with all the bells and whistles, black paint to match the black leather seats and the shiny dashboard, the lights angry and blinding white. leo loves his car, loves the speed, loves how neymar’s face lights up when he hits speeds far above the speed limit of the road.

he's the guy you find working on his car almost all day, siting underneath of it and fiddling with a pipe with a wrench in one hand and a screwdriver between his lips, brow furrowed and forehead covered in sweat. his hands are blackened with grease when he comes into the house some days, and neymar never fails to make him wash his hands before dinner, saying that he couldn't have leo dirtying the silverware before he even puts it to the food.

neymar loves the car, too. he can see it in his face, the way his eyes gleam when he hears the loud growl of the ignition, the way his hand tightens on leo's thigh as they gain speed. they both love the car, and so leo decides to surprise neymar and take him out in it.

he takes neymar out one night, to a nice, casual dinner. neymar is in a white shirt and gold shoes, the contrast of his outfit with leo’s car that he leaves leo salivating before he even revs the engine.

the drive afterwards has leo’s nerves on edge. they’re driving down the road, all the windows down, neymar’s laugh echoing around the car as he rests his hand on leo’s thigh. “thanks for taking me out tonight,” he whispers, and leo slows to a stop as a light before moving and placing a short kiss on neymar’s lips, resting his hand on the back of neymar's neck. “it was my pleasure,” he breathes against neymar’s lips, scratching his nails lightly on the short hairs of neymar's neck, hearing him moan a little in his mouth.

he's interrupted by a horn beeping next to him.

leo breaks away and looks over next to them, eyeing the stunning neon orange aventador purring next to them. the window went down, and leo is faced with a man who looks not that much different from those supermodels who practically paint themselves with fake tans. he raises his sunglasses up and smirks, white teeth flashing at leo as he narrows his eyes.

“wanna race, pretty boy?” he yells across the lane, and leo groans, rolling his eyes. honestly, at this point, he just wants to make it home and carve his fingertips into neymar’s back, but now he has to deal with this asshole.

“not really, no, but thanks,” leo calls back, but the man won’t stop badgering him. leo can tell neymar is getting agitated, especially when the man catches sight of him in the passenger seat. it’s then that leo rolls the window up, ignoring the man’s jeering comments.

somehow, the light has stayed red until that exact moment, and luckily the other car speeds off, leaving leo in the dust. neymar is tense next to him, and he sends leo a thin-lipped smile as he places his hand on neymar’s thigh.

“don’t take what that asshole said into account, okay?” leo says, not taking his eyes off the road, but he can see neymar grinning widely out the corner of his eyes.

that’s when leo decides to look over and catch neymar’s wide, sparkling white smile, eyes glittering as a blush creeps up his cheeks.

leo goes to say _i love you_ , but he never makes it.

he never expects the orange car to suddenly appear again out of fucking _nowhere_ , plowing into the side of his car, or his vision to suddenly go black.

it’s weird; one moment, he’s looking at neymar, who looks absolutely radiant as he soaks in leo’s praise, sparkling smile painted on his face, and then his vision goes black. there’s an awful screeching noise, the sound of glass smashing dull in leo’s ears as if it’s happening in another universe.

his eyes open and everything is blurry and slow-moving for a moment, his vision pounding as he moans, feeling the fabric of an air bag on his chest. he’s breathing fine, and there’s no pressure inside chest, so there’s no broken ribs, and his arms and legs feel functional. there’s a bit of blood on his face; it drips into his mouth and he spits it out at the air bag, watching it spray across the white deflated bag.

he looks to the side and starts.

neymar isn’t in the seat.

leo’s brain goes into overdrive, eyes widening. his brain is processing everything wrong with the car; the windshield is gone, the front of the car is crushed against what looks like a tree, a low-lying branch shooting straight through the windshield and out through the back window, missing leo’s face by inches.

the other car has crashed into the median on the other side of the road, the hood of the car crumpled to the dash. there’s a hunched figure in the front seat, unmoving, and leo has a bad feeling that the guy won’t be walking away from that crash alive.

he tries the door, which miraculously works and creaks as leo undoes his seatbelt and rolls out of the car, landing on his hands and knees as he looks around for neymar. he can’t have gone far; leo wasn’t out for that long.

five minutes of searching passes and he finds him, thrown over twenty feet out the front of the car.

leo first sees him because of his white shirt, which is covered in blood and almost unrecognizable. he’s crumpled on the ground, curled up like a little kid sleeping. his eyes are closed, eyelashes soft against his face. there’s blood, dripping down the side of his face and bubbling out of his lips. his chest is rising and falling softly, and leo’s hands shake as he presses them gingerly against neymar’s shoulder.

he can’t move him, he doesn’t have the energy to and he doesn’t want to worsen neymar’s injuries. he brushes his fingers over neymar’s face, using his sleeve to brush away the blood from his face. “god, neymar, i’m so sorry,” he whispers, hands shaking as he cleans neymar’s face as best he can.

neymar doesn’t respond, doesn’t flinch, and leo can barely tell if he’s still breathing. he gingerly raises neymar’s hand to his lips, brushing them over his knuckles, choking back the tears that are threatening to pour down his face.

_i did this._


End file.
